


The Idiosyncrasies of Life

by sansos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comedy, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Miya Atsumu, Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life, i swear i write other characters HAHA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansos/pseuds/sansos
Summary: A drabble collection of stories that pop into my head from time to time aimed to get a chuckle out of you.1-3. Miya Atsumu4. Miya Osamu
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu & Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105





	1. The Dilemma | Miya Atsumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re left with a tough choice to make: go through with Atsumu’s request or play it safe and back out before it’s too late?

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Whatcha worryin’ ‘bout? If anyone’s worryin’, it should be me,” Atsumu laughed from beneath you.

You sighed as you unfurled the instructions in your hands and gave it yet another glance over.

“I really don’t know,” you found yourself mumbling as you mindlessly ran your fingers through Atsumu’s hair in an effort to channel your nervousness elsewhere, “maybe we should go to a pro for this...”

Atsumu reached up for your hand, latching onto it with his own before bringing it down to his lips to sprinkle kisses across the skin on the back.

“I trust you,” he murmured, tilting his head up to look you in the eyes, conveying every inch and every ounce of the love and affection that he had reserved for you and you alone.

You opened your mouth to speak, but found your mind unable to connect the entries in your lexicon into coherent sentences. You just stood there with your mouth ajar as Atsumu chuckled, his low voice resounding through his chest.

“It’ll be fine,” he whispered, his voice as steady and calm as the unwavering trust of the words that left his lips. He unlaced his hand from yours, placing it onto your cheek with such delicate gentleness that rivalled even the spring wind.

You let out a distressed cry as you dropped down onto the floor next to him, your knees giving out from the stress of the ordeal. No, you couldn’t do it. You were terrified by the haunting permanence of the consequences —there would be no undo button, no way to wind back the hands of time. 

“‘Tsumu, I really can’t,” you gasped, burying your head into your arms in shame at your own cowardice. “I’ve never bleached hair before and you’ll end up looking like a cheeto if I mess up. I can’t do it.” 

You heard a snort and looked up to find Atsumu visibly shaking from silent laughter, his lips quivering from his attempt to suppress his roaring laughter, his fist in front of his face in an attempt to hide his elated amusement.

“You set me up!” You yelled at the realization that Atsumu had, in fact, known that you wouldn’t be able to go through with his request. His restraint had reached its limit, and his laughter quickly reflected off of the bathroom’s ceramic tiled walls.

“Blame yerself fer bein’ so damn cute,” he wheezed in-between laughs. You angrily punched him on the shoulder, launching him into yet another fit of giggles as he clutched onto his stomach and gasped for air.

“‘Samu’s comin’ ‘round to do it,” he eventually confessed when his breathing rate finally slowed down —his loud amusement settling into a loving smirk. “Though I wouldn’t say no if ya still wanted ta do it,” he teased.

You huffed out in irritation as you dropped the instructions down next to the stool Atsumu was sitting on and stood back up on your feet from your spot on the ground.

“Dream on, cheeto boy,” you grumbled, flipping him off with one hand as you opened the bathroom door with the other. “I’m going to go and cook something up for the better twin when he comes.”

Atsumu leaned over from his spot as you made your way towards the kitchen. “The better twin likes fatty tuna!” He yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice further. “Love ya too!”


	2. Photograph | Miya Atsumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you wondered if you didn’t give Atsumu enough credit in the romance category. Sometimes you knew you gave him too much.

> _Miya Atsumu sent you a message_. 

You glanced down at the notification and looked over at the man who just messaged you, confused —you were literally right next to him, why in the world had he sent you a text?

He gestured eagerly at your phone, encouraging you to open up the message with eyes lit up brighter than a child’s on Christmas morning. You sighed, releasing your hand from his grasp as you unlocked your screen.

A photo of the two of you from back when you first started dating stared back at you from the chat window. Young and bashful, with a certain sense of childlike innocence in both your eyes. If you recalled correctly, the photo was taken on what must have been your third date —the one where he had taken you to the amusement park.

You looked up at Atsumu with a smile on your face, staring lovingly at your boyfriend as you recalled the significance the day held for the both of you. It had marked the first time you held hands, the first time you had worked up the nerve to kiss him on the cheek, and the first time you started to feel that tugging in your stomach that screamed yes, _he was the one_.

He’d never been the sentimental type, always preferring to live in the moment. He let his passion dictate his life’s course, choosing to focus on the present and the future rather than the past, always rushing into things headfirst. Occasionally you’d find yourself frustrated by his hastiness, but it was also this attitude of his that attracted you to begin with: his ambition and his never-ending _hunger_ for more.

Perhaps that was why it had never struck you that Miya Atsumu would be one to go back through old photos to recount the memories of the old. You knew he kept pictures on his phone, but you never expected him to scroll back in his album, much less share it with you. The realization that maybe he, too, cherished your shared history as much as you did left a smile on your lips and made your heart skip a beat.

“It’s been a long time—”

“—I look so good in this, don’t ya think?”

And then your smile disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. 

“Look, those pants I’m wearin’? Grey _is_ my color,” Atsumu mused as he took your phone in his and zoomed in on his legs. “Whew, I am smokin’ hot.”

_Typical._

“Are you checking yourself out?”

He looked over and turned your phone back towards you, pointing at the blond man in the photo.

“Not ta toot ma own horn or anythin’, but I’m lookin’ real good in this, ya gotta admit,” he said with a serious nod.

You groaned as you pushed your boyfriend away and snatched your phone back from his grasp. “And here I was thinking that you were being romantic for a second!”

Atsumu scratched at the back of his head and shot you a quizzical look.

“Thought you were thinking back to the first time we held hands and stuff,” you mumbled, downcast and disappointed.

“Who needs to think back to memories,” he scoffed as he pulled you back to him and wrapped his arms around your torso. “I’ll hold yer hand as many times as ya want, and we can go to the park as many times as ya want too,” he said, his eyes burning with unwavering devotion. “All that matters is the love I feel for ya. Why bother thinkin’ ‘bout anythin’ else?”

You sighed. You couldn’t possibly let him know that his sappy words actually made your heart flutter. No, the man’s ego was certain to swell up even more and explode in your face. 

So instead, you brought your fingers up to his forehead and delivered a good strong flick, eliciting a yelp of pain from the man. 

“You could’ve called me hot too, you ass.”


	3. Fish Food | Miya Atsumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu and you seem to have very polarizing views on the superior ice cream flavor.

"Mint chocolate chip is disgustin'. Yer literally eatin’ toothpaste."

You glared at the man standing in front of you from your spot on the couch as you pointed your spoon at him as if wielding a sword.

“You say that again. I dare you.”

He took another step closer to you, his fingers knit together behind his back as an innocent smile stretched across his face. "Okay, I’ll rephrase it fer ya.” He cleared his throat, “Yer eatin’ literal toothpaste.”

"You do realize that toothpaste is just mint flavored, right?” you scoffed with an eyebrow quirked. You lowered your arm and jammed the silver spoon back into the frozen block. “Mint and toothpaste are separate entities."

He frowned, his eyes narrowing as he walked over to place the back of his hand against your forehead. "Ya feelin’ okay, (f/n)?” He moved his hand up and ruffled your hair with a light laugh. “Cause ya do realize that mint’s literally the same as toothpaste, right?" he ribbed, his voice intoned with mock concern.

"I’m perfectly healthy, mind you,” you heaved, your lips pursed in annoyance. “And no it isn't," you barked back.

"Yes it is."

“No, it isn’t.”

"Then why doesn't Colgate make bacon flavored toothpaste?” he disputed, his hands on his hips as he leaned in closer to your face. “Face it, mint and toothpaste are the same thing." He twirled on his heel with a shrug of his shoulders as he sauntered over to the kitchen.

"That's a lot of talk from someone whose favorite ice cream flavor is literally fish food," you snapped back, your words muffled by the spoon in your mouth. Atsumu turned his head around and glared at you, to which you promptly responded to by removing your spoon and sticking out your tongue to blow a raspberry at him.

"It's spelled with a P-H," he corrected with an eye roll as he pulled open the freezer door and swiped the pint from the top drawer. He pointed at the name printed on the side with a puff of his chest. “It's also the GOAT of all ice cream flavors. I don’t make the rules.”

"And there's clearly literal fish in it," you added matter-of-factly, balancing the pint in your hands on your lap and gesturing at the image on the label with the spoon in your hand. “And please tell your pet goat to make some better rules.”

"CHOCOLATE FISH," he loudly clarified as he jabbed a finger at the image on the pint to emphasize his point. “And the GOAT being the greatest of all time, sugar muffin,” he continued as he kicked the door close with his heel.

"Same difference," you shrugged as you spooned another mouthful of the green dessert into your mouth. “Ooh,” you drawled a second later as a thought came to mind, “make that a mint chocolate chip muffin would you, you ol’ sack of all-purpose flour?”

“Why can’t ya use a cute nickname like ‘honey cakes’ or somethin’?” Atsumu huffed with a pout as he fished through the drawer for a spoon. “Why do I have ta be an ingredient?”

“You could be ‘preheat oven to 375’ if you want,” you offered, scooting over on the couch to make room for him when he walked back over to the living room.

He rolled his eyes yet again as he plopped down next to you, yanking open the lid of his ice cream as he did so.

“Yer a real menace, y’know?” he grumbled as he dug his spoon into the dessert, his face scrunched up as he fought against the ice crystals to spoon up a bite.

You looked away from the TV and back at him, a saccharine smile on your face. “Oh room temperature unsalted butter, I revel in being one, and I know you love it too,” you cooed in his face before turning back to the sitcom you were watching.

Atsumu heaved a sigh as he shoved a small spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He had no counterargument —he truly did love the playful bickers and banters the two of you exchanged on the daily. He dug up another spoonful of ice cream as his eyes twinkled with devilish mischief.

“Maybe yer right about that,” he admitted as he swiped your pint from your hands, replacing it with his. You opened you mouth to complain, but Atsumu simply smirked and delightedly spooned in a bite of Phish Food into your mouth, having clearly anticipated your actions.

“And I love ya and all, but ya still got some weird taste in ice cream, so I’m gonna be responsible in makin’ sure that gets fixed.”

You bit down on the chocolate fish in your mouth, relishing in the contrast between the smooth fudge and the melted cream coating the roof of your mouth. Atsumu _was_ right in that Phish Food was a great flavor, but—

“Mint’s still better,” you insisted with an impish smile.


	4. Premium | Miya Osamu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spotify’s $5/month student plan’s a great deal, but the problem was just that you’d be graduating soon and would no longer qualify... Though it seems like Osamu’s got a plan all figured out

“What’s got ya all frowny today?”

You looked up from your laptop, staring blankly at the black haired man in front of you, his dominant hand twirling a red ballpoint pen as his other fiddled with the edges of the financial statements in front of him.

“Admission decisions,” you sighed as your hand reached over your keyboard to refresh the screen once more. 

_Decision pending_. 

You groaned at the words on the screen, your hands snaking their way up the side of your head, your fingers finding themselves tangled in the locks of your hair. 

“Still nothin’?” Osamu asked as he placed down his pen, pushing the papers in front of him aside to lean in closer and devote all of his undivided attention onto you. You shook your head in reply, letting out another sigh as you slumped against your chair. 

“What if I don’t get in, ‘Samu?” you fretted, your hands reaching back out to the keyboard to press on the all-too-familiar “Control R” combination. “The decision’s supposed to come out today... Did they reject me and just didn’t have the heart to update my status?”

The screen refreshed once more, revealing the same mocking words as before and eliciting yet another groan out of you.

“Why’re ya botherin’ ta entertain that thought even?” 

You glanced over at your boyfriend, peeling your gaze away from the screen for the first time since you sat down. “I don’t know. I’m worried. I can’t help but fear the worst I guess,” you confessed, your thumb by your mouth and your fingernail hooked against the back of your teeth. 

He raised an eyebrow at you as you picked away at the lint on your keyboard. “Why’re ya worried?” he asked, his voice imbued with unequivocal confusion, “Yer more than qualified.”

“Don’t think anyone not qualified would apply,” you sniffed as your fingers tabbed through the open applications on your desktop, landing almost by chance on the black window of your music player. You heaved out another sigh. “I can’t believe I’ll have to pay full price for Spotify,” you muttered under your breath, biting unconsciously on your lower lip as you scrolled through your liked songs. “Shelling out $10 a month... Do I look like I’m made of money?”

“I pay $10 a month.”

“You’re also the owner of a quickly expanding restaurant chain, Osamu.”

“Fair point,” he laughed, the edges of his lips raising up in amusement as his fingers lightly drummed on the dinner table. His gaze settled back onto you as he leaned in even closer, his broad chest resting against the table as his arm moved out further against the wooden surface to grab onto your hand. “We could split the duo plan,” he offered, his thumb drawing circles onto your skin, “it’d lower it to $6.50 a month.”

You rolled your eyes, the fingers of your free hand tracing the rim of your laptop lid. “Enticing, but you need to have proof that you live at the same residential address.” You reached over to the other end of the table, picking up the letters Osamu had carelessly thrown to the side when he walked in earlier. “I can’t prove this, buddy,” you said as you tapped against the address line.

He paid no heed to the gesture as he continued staring at you with a knowing smile. His hand reached behind him, and he patted around for whatever it was he was looking for in his back pocket.

“I think I can do somethin’ ‘bout that,” he revealed as he dropped a smooth metal object into your hands with a sly grin. You looked down, your eyes widening at the sight of the silver key that had been thrusted into your hold. “With yer permission and all that, but I think we can both win from this arrangement, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes with a wide grin as you got up out of your seat and leaned over across the table to give him a light peck on the lips. 

“You’ve been waiting for this chance to be all smooth, haven’t you? Just couldn’t have asked me to move in with you directly?” 

“Nah, it came naturally,” he smirked as he picked up his pen and sat back up in his seat to dive back into work. 


End file.
